


Illumination

by tongue_spike



Category: Indiana Jones Series
Genre: M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-11-01 23:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tongue_spike/pseuds/tongue_spike
Summary: "Indiana! What a lovely surprise!"At the sound of the voice, Henry Jones Sr. had the honor of seeing all the blood drain from his son's face. He turned to see who could cause such a reaction.





	Illumination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).

"Indiana! What a lovely surprise!"

At the sound of the voice, Henry Jones Sr. had the honor of seeing all the blood drain from his son's face. He turned to see who could cause such a reaction.

A well dressed, older gentleman approached them. He had a thick mane of silver hair, expensive designer glasses, and a neatly trimmed beard. He appeared to be about Henry's age. His smile was self-confident to a degree that was just a shade away from smug as he sauntered up to Indiana.

"Fancy meeting you here. You're looking quite well." The unsubtle way his gaze swept over Indiana was unmistakable. Indiana tensed visibly.

"William." Indiana all but spat the name out. "I thought I smelled something rotten."

William chuckled. "Now, now. There's no need to be petulant. I've missed you too."

Indiana looked ready to deck the man right there, and Henry wasn't sure he should stop him.

Henry coughed quietly, hoping for an introduction. At his interruption, William finally deigned to notice him, but he only spared Henry the barest of glances before returning his full attention to Indiana.

"Trying a new model, I see," he said with a mocking smile. William stepped closer, well into Indiana's space. Henry was surprised to see his son give way, stepping back, before finally holding his ground. Even that little bit was more than he'd ever seen his son do before, no matter how intimidating their opponent. "You can't replace perfection."

Indiana's fists clenched. "This is my _dad_."

This finally earned Henry more than a dismissive once-over. William looked speculatively at him, the gleam in his eyes less than friendly. "Indeed?"

"Indeed," Henry said, more than a little put out at this man's attitude. "I don't think I've had the pleasure…"

"Sir William Porter," William said, putting special emphasis on the title. "Professor of Archaeology at Trinity College." He glanced sidelong at Indiana. "Your son and I co-wrote a paper together. It was an…_enlightening_ experience."

Once again, he gave Indiana a once-over that was positively obscene in its obvious interest. Indiana's whole body practically screamed his discomfort.

"I'm well aware of my son's talents," Henry said.

Indiana winced, and William looked gleeful. "Oh, are you?" He glanced back at Indiana. "Is that how things are? Was I just a substitute? You think you're trading up now?"

He affected a hurt tone, but his eyes were malicious.

"Your mind always was a cesspit," Indiana growled lowly. He turned to Henry and said, "I think this party's over, Dad." He looked at William, his eyes filled with venom. "The air's become toxic here."

William merely laughed.

To Henry's shock, Indiana turned on his heels and strode away, William's mocking laughter following him.

Henry hesitated a moment, his surprise that Indiana would let anyone push him around like that keeping him rooted to the spot. He glanced at William, who offered Henry a cold look.

"Taking orders from your son? Is that how it is?" William said. "Considering how things played out between us, I would have thought the opposite."

Henry had only been in this man's presence for a minute, and he would be happy to never see him again. Shrugging casually, he said, "I don't see anything worth my time here so..."

He set down his glass of wine, and wandered after his son. The crowded room allowed him to catch up quickly enough.

"What was that about?" Henry asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Nothing." Indiana kept his focus on looking for an exit.

"I doubt we'd be racing away with our tails between our legs if it were merely _nothing_," Henry noted dryly.

That at least earned him an annoyed look from his son. "That guy's an asshole. He always kills a good time. There's no use staying."

They reached the exit and ducked out into the night. "You clearly have a history," Henry noted. "Who is he to you?"

Indiana's long strides ate up the distance between the reception hall and their hotel, but not quickly enough to ignore his father's question. Still, Henry thought he wasn't going to get an answer.

As it was, all Indiana said was a muttered, "A mistake."

He lengthened his steps, and Henry had to jog a bit to keep up. Rather than push, Henry waited until they returned to the hotel.

In the meantime, he studied his son. Henry had been doing that a lot since the Grail Quest. There was more to see than he'd ever thought, and he was weighed down by the knowledge that it had always been there but he'd just been too blind to see.

Perhaps tonight's encounter was another example.

Henry turned that over in his mind as they finally entered the small hotel room they were sharing. He watched his son immediately begin divesting himself of the formal suit, yanking the tie off as he sat down to pull his shoes off.

Henry watched him for a moment before saying, "Junior—"

"Dad, I've told you, don't call me—" Indiana began, scowling at Henry as he yanked his shoe off.

"Junior." Henry said the name again, putting some steel into his voice. It had the desired effect. Indiana bit back his angry retort and looked down, once again the reluctantly obedient boy he'd always been.

Or at least that was how Henry remembered it.

Relaxing his hard expression, Henry said gently, "A mistake?"

Indiana frowned as he pulled off the other shoe. Seeing his confusion, Henry expanded, "You said that man was a mistake. I take it you two were …involved?"

Indiana's expression darkened.

"Don't get preachy with me, Dad," he said, standing abruptly and aggressively unbuttoning his dress shirt so he could shrug it off. "I know all about your hook-ups with guys back during your Oxford days. You can't claim moral high ground on this so don't even try."

Henry was taken aback. "How-"

"Brody." Indiana had the grace to look uneasy. "In his defense, he was very drunk at the time. I'm pretty sure he doesn't remember the conversation."

There was much about that Henry could say, but he decided not to let himself be derailed from the topic he was interested in. "It's not that he's a man. You said he was a mistake. What did you mean?"

"It's none of your business," Indiana snapped.

Unsurprised by his son's reaction, Henry remained unperturbed. "Maybe not, but I'm still asking."

Indiana hesitated, obviously not expecting Henry's calm insistence. Henry waited patiently as Indiana clearly deliberated how to respond.

Finally he sighed, looking tired. "I met William at the tail-end of a disastrous adventure. He was just my type, and there when I needed to lose myself after a close call. I should've ended it there but I didn't. Not right away. It was … messy. But it's in the past now."

Indiana turned away, pulling his undershirt over his head. His stance made it clear this conversation was over. Henry had other ideas.

"Just your type," he repeated. Indiana gave him a wary look, which grew as Henry finally approached him. "What type is that? An older man? A scholar? An asshole?"

Henry could see Indiana swallow. He could see everything. It was all there. His son was much more expressive than he'd ever cared to notice. Why had it taken nearly losing him for Henry to see that?

And how many times had he almost lost him and not even known?

"Dad?" Indiana's tone was hesitant. Henry studied him with the same intensity he had reserved for so many years for the Grail, and what he saw only emboldened him.

"William made a rather blatant allusion to us. Is it one you want to dispute?" Henry challenged.

Indiana's eyes went wide. For a moment, he was completely still.

Then, he made a soft chuckle. "Come on, Dad."

He tried to laugh it off as nothing, and was about to turn away, but not before Henry saw the flash of emotion that crossed over his son's face. There was sadness there. Regret. Loneliness. Henry could see it clear as day, and he couldn't abide it.

He stepped closer, well into his son's space just as William had done earlier. Indiana paused at the unexpected action, finding his father far too close. He did not retreat, not physically at least, but the half-hearted attempt to laugh away the situation died on his lips. Henry could see the vulnerability in his eyes. The need.

Reaching out, he touched his son's bare chest and used just the tips of his fingers to slide over the warm skin. "What do you want, son?"

A war danced in Indiana's eyes, but Henry met his gaze steadily. He had failed his son in so many ways. Just this once, he wanted to be a rock on which Indiana could depend. Stalwart, steady, dependable. All the things he'd failed so far.

There was a pronounced pause as Indiana processed this new development. Henry waited to see if he would push him away or…well, Henry wasn't sure exactly what would happen but he was ready to see it through.

Indiana opened his mouth, as if to say something, but he appeared to be at a loss for words. Hands shaking, eyes never leaving Henry's, Indiana hesitantly reached out.

The flash of vulnerability grew stronger, but it didn't stop him from acting. Henry was reminded of their conversation on the Zeppelin. He saw now how Indiana had tried to connect with him. Even after everything, he still kept trying.

And how had Henry reacted? Too wrapped up in the Grail Quest to truly see what was right in front of him, what really mattered. Another moment slipped through his fingers never to be recaptured again, and he hadn't even realized what it was he was letting himself lose.

Illumination. That was Henry's answer when Indiana had asked what he'd found on their Grail Quest. He'd been so blind, and he hadn't seen it. Not until now when Indiana's fingers traced along the edge of his belt to the clasp there.

He could see the question in his son's eyes. _Was he going too far? Had he misunderstood? Was this really happening?_

Words weren't enough now. Words got in the way. Henry's assent—his encouragement—was purely silent. But it was there. Henry just didn't know if Indiana could see it. It had taken Henry forty years to see clearly, but maybe Indiana didn't need that long. He always had been exceptional.

Belt unbuckled, trousers unbuttoned, gazes still locked, they were still. The air around them grew heavy. The familiar tension built low in Henry's belly, which made the situation all the stranger for how easy it came to him.

They held that breathless moment, ready to tip over the edge, but each wondering if they dared do it.

And then Indiana slowly sank to his knees, eyes never wavering from Henry's. By touch alone, he freed Henry's cock from the confines of fabric. It was a shock of sensation: Indiana's warm hand and the cooler air of the hotel room.

Henry was already hard, harder than he should be with so little preamble. He waited to see what Indiana would do next. What he would dare.

It seemed even Indiana wasn't quite sure, playing by the seat of his pants as usual. His touch was hesitant, and Henry didn't think it was normal for him. He didn't think it out of place either, given the circumstances, but he wanted more. Wanted a firm touch and a sure hand.

He wouldn't push though. Not right now. Not for this.

Indiana could take whatever pleased him, but it had to be from him. This was his son first-most and primary. It wasn't about Henry tonight.

Maybe it never would be. Maybe that was how it should be.

The instant of hesitation slipped away as Indiana's grip tightened. Henry could see the flash of resolve in his son's eyes, and guessed that he was annoyed with himself for his indecision. What followed spoke volumes to that as Indiana no longer held back.

But, even as his hand stroked surely over Henry's length, the vulnerability lurked in the depths of Indiana's eyes. Easy to miss, Henry supposed, but only because he hadn't cared to look before now.

Perhaps Indiana understood he was revealing more than he wanted to because he gave up touch quickly, leaning forward with an open mouth. Henry felt the warmth of his breath before the slick of a tongue traced along the underside of his cock.

"Junior," Henry groaned, the feel of his son's mouth wrapped around him almost too much. He slid his hand into his son's soft hair, gripping firmly but otherwise letting his son choose the pace and rhythm.

That Indiana had done this before was clearly evident. His tongue was agile in all the right ways, and it was only the work of a moment to relax his throat to take Henry all the way to the root.

Henry let out a pleased sigh, delighting in the heat and pressure of Indiana's throat. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting shallowly, wanting to go deeper. Indiana showed no distress. Indeed, he made a little noise of encouragement that made Henry groan again.

Pulling back, he pushed forward a little too fast, a little too hard. He could have stopped himself from more, but Henry saw his son's reaction to just that. Eyes darkening. A shudder sliding through his frame. Hand going down to quickly fumble with his own belt.

So, that was what Indiana liked. Henry could certainly provide.

Tangling his other hand into Indiana's hair so that he had a tight hold, Henry paused a moment. The break was enough to let Indiana stop if he wanted to, but they both knew he wouldn't.

Keeping his son's head still, Henry began to thrust deep. His thrusts were measured at first—a long, steady push in and pull out—but Indiana's tongue was still busy, and he had just the right kind of suction. Henry's rhythm fell apart too soon, and he was thrusting with abandon, trying to get more, faster, now!

Indiana let him, his own cock now free. He furiously stroked himself as Henry's cock rammed into his throat again and again.

Henry's orgasm was building; he wasn't going to last. "Ah, son! Don't stop…so good...just there…"

Hands tightening in Indiana's hair, he thrust deep one last time and came hard, semen spurting down his son's throat.

Rather than choking, Indiana moaned loudly around his father's cock. He curled his tongue around as much of Henry's cock as he could, all the while still roughly pleasuring himself.

Henry swayed on his feet, panting hard in the aftermath of his orgasm. Indiana continued to suck at his softening cock, and it was too much sensation.

Keeping his hold on Indiana's head, Henry withdrew. Indiana made a noise of protest but Henry's hold was too tight to let him follow after as he wished.

Now free, Henry looked down at the picture his son presented him. Indiana looked desperate, arching his back as he made a show of touching himself. One hand squeezed his cock while the other slipped underneath to fondle his balls. He looked absolutely obscene, and Henry couldn't tear his eyes away.

This was all for him, he realized. Indiana was turned on because of him. It was so wrong—he should be horrified at himself—but he barely thought that before he immediately dismissed it.

Indiana was beautiful like this, and Henry wasn't going to turn away. He watched every twist of his son's wrist on his cock, soaked up every little hitched breath and muttered curse, breathed deep the scent of sex filling the air.

When he came, Indiana threw his head back hard enough that Henry lost his grip. He watched his son gasping for breath, lips swollen, chest shining with sweat. He was the most gorgeous thing Henry had ever seen.

Indiana had closed his eyes when he came. Getting his breathing under control, he opened them again and met Henry's eyes.

"Dad?"

Henry could see the walls creeping back up, ready to put this back into a box because how could it be anywhere else?

Shaking his head hard, Henry grabbed Indiana by the bicep and hauled him up to his feet. One strong hand wrapping around the back of his son's neck, Henry kissed him fiercely.

He thought, distantly, that perhaps he should've started with a kiss. Something soft and loving that showed his son what he meant to Henry.

But he couldn't regret how it was now, tasting himself on his son's tongue, that same clever tongue that had been wrapped around his cock only a few minutes ago.

"Next time, we'll have to take the time to undress," Henry muttered when they had to pull away for breath.

Indiana's eyes widened in surprise, and Henry could see the tentative light of hope therein at the promise of a next time.

His son opened his mouth, but for a second time that night, it appeared he didn't know what to say. After a moment, Indiana offered a crooked smile and pulled his father close for another kiss.

Henry could feel how tightly his son held onto him, and it just firmed his intention that this wouldn't be a one-time affair.

Now that he'd had this, Henry did not intend to ever let Indiana go.


End file.
